


Better Than Christmas

by backtothestart02



Series: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction [14]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff, Love Confession, Romance, christmas 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backtothestart02/pseuds/backtothestart02
Summary: Pre-Series - Canon Divergent - The Christmas before everything changed, Barry confesses to Iris he's in love with her.*Written for Day 16 of 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction.





	Better Than Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely had to post this one here on Christmas. It's my only Christmas-themed fic in everything I've written for my 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction event (ironically). Lol. I hope you enjoy! This is meant to take place the Christmas before the PAE - so just like a month before it or something? Since I think he must've woken up in September of that same year. I live for westallen love confessions before they happened on the show. Pre-series are esp fun b/c no love interests are rly in the way. Lol. Merry Christmas!
> 
> *Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.

Iris’ warmth beside him was ecstasy. Her wool sweater with the penguins playing in the snow with winter hats combined with her red sweatpants and fuzzy socks made him think of home and happiness. Sitting with her on the couch, looking up at the Christmas tree with its blinking lights and dozens of ornaments, a few professionally wrapped presents under the tree, and the smell of eggnog in the air as the fire blazed, effectively shutting out the cold. Joe wore a scarf anyway and two layers. Barry wore his typical big red sweater that Iris loved to snuggle into. And _God_ , if Barry didn’t just love Christmas time because of all of those things.

But he wasn’t next to Iris on the couch admiring the beautifully decorated Christmas tree right now. He was in the kitchen baking Christmas cookie with Joe because Iris’ specialty was decorating the tree – and also, her talent in the kitchen was lacking unless it came down to slicing and dicing, which to her credit, she was great at.

Every so often Barry would peak out into the living room and watch her decorate the tree. He’d taken care of the lights and the garland. She would always beg him to help her put up the ornaments with her, but she also wanted him to bake cookies for her and so he was doing the latter as fast as he possibly could. Still, he yearned to see her. He always liked seeing her. She was beautiful, and he was in love with her.

“Hey. Bear.” Joe walked over to him, though he didn’t notice until the man was waving his hand in front of his face. “Earth to Barry?”

Barry blinked, blushed a bright pink and cleared his throat, ducking back into the kitchen just as Iris was turning to quizzically look at them.

“I, uh, I thought we were done, Joe.”

Joe eyed him suspiciously, and Barry wondered if he knew. He’d been careful not to show his feelings for Iris too openly. She’d never guessed, so he assumed no one else had either.

“With one tray, Bear. We have four more to go.”

Barry looked over to the counter and the bare cookie trays spread across it.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I must’ve just-”

“Son, are you ever going to tell her how you feel?”

Barry’s face went white as a sheet.

“I…um…what?” his voice rasped.

Joe barely suppressed rolling his eyes. He did lower his voice though.

“I know you’re in love with my daughter.”

“What?” Barry’s voice squeaked.

“I’ve known it for a long time, and I approve.”

“Y-you do?”

“Are you kidding me? Who else better to take care of her than the boy I raised, the only man I know who comes close to loving her as much as I do and treating her like the goddess she is?”

 _Well, she is one_ , Barry thought to himself.

“There’s no one else I will ever trust her with as much as I trust you.”

“Joe, this is a lot…to take in.”

So much so that he was feeling the need to sit down, and quickly.

Not only had he failed hiding his feelings from Joe, but Joe was eager to get him and Iris together. It was reassuring to know he wouldn’t have to win him over and that at least one person thought he was worthy of Iris as a romantic partner, but it still was happening faster and more suddenly than he’d ever expected it to. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected it to happen at all. Actually obtaining Iris’ affection seemed like a far off dream that would never come true. He certainly never expected anyone to encourage that goal, let alone Joe, Iris’ father and the man who had raised him since he was eleven.

“Look, I’m not trying to overwhelm you, Barry,” Joe said, coming to stand next to where he was leaning against the counter. “I just…I’ve seen how you felt about her since you came to live with us, since before you knew what the word ‘love’ meant.”

Reluctantly, Barry looked up into his eyes.

“And I’m telling you, she has no idea how you feel.”

Barry wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and rubbed the skin there – a nervous habit.

“I…I know,” he said, nearly a muttered breath.

“You have to tell her.”

His eyes flashed back to Joe’s.

“W-What? Joe, no. She won’t- She doesn’t feel-”

“She does.”

A scoff spilled past his lips.

“You can’t know that, Joe. I mean, has she said that she does?”

“No. But-” Barry shook his head indignantly, but Joe continued, determined. “She might not know her own feelings, but she will if you tell her yours.”

“Joe, no. That doesn’t make any-”

“Just tell her how you feel.”

“No!” His voice escalated unknowingly. “I’m not going to risk our friendship over feelings she might or might not have.”

“Is everything all right in there?” Iris called out, and Barry reigned in his temper.

He knew Joe had good intentions, but what he was asking of him was absolutely ridiculous. It just wasn’t that simple. If Iris hadn’t shown interest in him all the years they’d lived together, him telling her how he felt now wasn’t going to change that.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Are you suuu-” She came to a stop in the doorway and instantly felt the testosterone coming off both men in waves.

“Yep,” Barry said, forcing a smile onto his face. “I just wanted to come help you decorate the tree and your dad insisted I stay in here to bake cookies.”

Iris looked relieved. Barry didn’t know if she believed his excuse, but it didn’t matter. She was going to let it slide, and she was going to get him out of the kitchen. He knew even before she reached for his hand and pulled him toward her that was what was going to happen.

“Give Barry a break, Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you can handle the rest of the cookies by yourself.”

Taking the lead from his pseudo-son, Joe’s face had smoothed over and his frustrated eagerness cooled to more manageable degrees.

“You’re right. Of course. You two have fun.”

Barry didn’t dare look behind him as he and Iris left the kitchen. He could feel Joe glaring a hole into the back of his head.

…

Half an hour later, the tree was fully decorated – well, except for the star. But Joe would put that on later just before dinner. It was their tradition every year, and there was something very comfortable about tradition. It felt safe. It was nice.

Iris plopped down beside Barry on the couch, snuggling close. He tried to relax into her, but his conversation with Joe in the kitchen kept going on repeat in his mind. He hated that it had happened because it was ruining a moment he would’ve otherwise indulged in. If this was the only way he could have Iris, he would take it. It was great. It felt almost perfect.

_Is almost enough for you? After what Joe told you?_

But Joe was only guessing. He wanted them to be together, so he made himself believe they had mutual feelings for each other. That wasn’t the same thing as actually having mutual feelings.

_He guessed you had feelings, though._

Barry ignored that line of thought.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Iris said, starry-eyed as she stared up at their masterpiece.

Barry wrapped his arm around her, forcing Joe’s words out of his mind. He was going to enjoy this moment. It only came once a year.

“You did a great job, Iris.”

She snorted and poked his chest with his finger.

“We did a great job.” She continued before he could insist otherwise. “Only half the tree would be decorated if you hadn’t helped me, and you know it.”

He smiled slowly. “I guess my height does come in handy.”

She sat up enough to turn and face him.

“ _You_ come in handy, Bear. I won’t have you saying otherwise.”

 _Oh my God, she’s so close_.

Maybe she wasn’t really. Maybe it just felt that way. But everything inside him was aching to kiss her.

 _Don’t do it. It will change everything. And not for the better_.

That voice was annoying, but it was also probably true. He knew he needed to listen to it or he might very well ruin Christmas for both of them. The awkward tension next Christmas if he caused that now just might kill him.

“You have really pretty eyes, Bear. Did I ever tell you that?” she asked, sifting her fingers through his hair.

 _God, she was going to kill him_. She was so touchy-feely with him, so handsy, and so innocent about it. It nearly drove him crazy. _If she only knew_.

Well, she won’t know unless you tell her. He heard the words in Joe’s voice in his head and knew they were true too.

And therein lie his dilemma.

“Not recently,” he teased, needing to lighten the moment before he went insane, before he got a hard-on with their knees touching, her thighs pressed against his, and her cinnamon fragrance absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, they are,” she continued, unthwarted and completely unaware. “Sometimes I wish I had them.”

He gawked at that.

“W-why? Your eyes are so pretty, Iris. They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes.”

He was babbling now, but he didn’t care. How Iris could ever think she was anything but the most beautiful was a mystery to him.

Her eyes twinkled in amusement though, and he knew he’d gone a bit overboard.

“All right, if you insist,” she said, and fixed his hair so it was as it had been before she’d started playing with it. Then she repositioned herself so she was snuggled up against him again, this time with her arm looped through his.

He didn’t know how he suppressed a sigh honestly, but when Joe came in a while later, Barry saw the look on his face and felt the pressure. Joe wanted him to tell her so bad. He didn’t know why the urgency had come on so suddenly, but he knew he was going to be feeling it until he told her. Maybe Joe thought Christmas would be the perfect time to tell? Regardless, he did feel guilty about snapping at the man. So later when Iris was asleep against him and most of the cookies had been eaten, and it was just Joe and Barry watching the Christmas tree and listening to the fire crackle, Barry spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” he said quietly. “About before. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” Joe said, and Barry had a feeling he did. “I was wrong to push. I just want you – both of you – to be happy.”

“We are happy, Joe.”

“Not as happy as you could be.”

Barry opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Look, if you’re not ready to tell her, I won’t push anymore. But please think about it. Maybe it wouldn’t work out, but I really think that it would. I think you owe it to yourself to give it a shot.”

Barry didn’t say anything, but he nodded. Then he looked down at his sleeping Iris and wondered hard. He still felt very strongly about everything he had said before, but in this gentler setting, a flicker of hope came to life inside him, and he wondered if it was possible that Joe could be right.

“I’m going to bed,” Joe said a while later, and came to press a kiss to his drowsy daughter’s face.

“Mm, what? No…Dad-” Iris protested, reaching for him.

“I’ll see you in the morning, baby girl.”

Her arms fell short and she murmured an ‘I love you’ and an ‘okay’, snuggling back into Barry and drifting back to sleep, her hand clutching his warm, red sweater.

Barry and Joe’s eyes met once more before Joe left. A nod, an understanding, and a ‘Merry Christmas’ passing their lips, even if it wasn’t quite midnight.

Barry fell asleep once for about forty-five minutes before coming to again. Iris was still sleeping against him, and he decided that maybe she might regret the arrangement if her back was out-of-sorts in the morning.

“Hey, Iris.” He gently shook her when she didn’t so much as budge. “Iris.”

She moaned a little. “Mmm, no, let me sleeeeeep,” she whined, then sighed contently against him and snuggled closer, the side of face fully pressed into his chest.

Of their own accord, Barry’s fingers tangled in her hair.

“It’s late, Iris.”

“It’s Christmas, Barry.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning after you’ve slept in your own bed,” he said, more firmly this time.

Reluctantly Iris roused herself and lifted her body off his.

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me, huh?”

His eyes widened. “Iris, I’m not. I’m just-”

“I know, I know. Doing what’s best for me like you always do.” She sighed, getting to her feet, running a hand through her hair and straightening out her clothing so she wouldn’t be walking with her seams sideways or her socks slipping off.

“Iris-” he tried, but she waved him off.

“It’s okay, Barry, you’re right.” She yawned. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He wanted to go after her. He should have gone after her. It was the perfect mood, the perfect lighting. And on Christmas Eve? What better time to risk it all, to risk every Christmas after this one if she really did feel the same?

But she was so tired. It probably wasn’t the ideal time to be making confessions of love.

So, he let her go, and he told himself he should go too. But as luck would have it, he ended up being too tired himself. He pulled a blanket off the top of the couch over him and fell asleep in the light of the Christmas tree.

…

The next morning when Iris came down the stairs, she was struck by the sight of Barry sleeping on the couch. She shook her head at his sleeping form, doing what he’d insisted she shouldn’t do.

_Unbelievable._

She knew she should leave him, despite his hypocrisy. But she couldn’t help it. She went and sat on the floor in front of the couch and trailed her fingers up his arm hanging over the side of the couch.

“The itsy bitsy spider…”

“I love you, Iris,” Barry mumbled in his sleep.

Iris chuckled to herself.

“I love you, too, Bear. Even if you are a bit of hypocrite.”

“I love you so much. Kiss me.”

His lips parted, and Iris’ eyes widened. Barry’s eyes were still shut, so he had to still be dreaming. She wondered what he could possibly be dreaming about. The thought suddenly occurred to her that he might be having a wet dream. About her. Her body’s first reaction to that possibility was to get hot all over, and for her a dampness to gather between her legs.

Iris tightly pushed her thighs together, willing the sensation to go away.

_That’s weird, Iris. He’s your best friend. You can’t- No. Stop it._

But he really was very handsome – hot, some people might say. Girls in her class, for instance. She remembered feeling some type of way when they would giggle and talk amongst themselves about Barry whenever he would come to meet up with Iris between classes at CCU. At the time she’d decided they were mean girls, unworthy of her best friend, just like Becky Cooper.

But now she wondered… Was it jealousy?

She tried to stomp down the feeling, but she couldn’t ignore what she’d felt last night either. For the longest time she stared into his eyes. It felt like an eternity. And she could’ve sworn he wanted to kiss her. She’d stretched out the moment deliberately just to see if he would. The fact that he hadn’t should’ve proved to her that her suspicions he might like her were wrong, just as they had been her entire life. Surely he would’ve made a move by now if he was actually interested.

And there was nothing wrong with him not being interested. She certainly wouldn’t want to ruin their friendship. The only person she depended on more than Barry was her dad, and even that was pretty much tied.

No, it was probably better to let this slide and ignore whatever Barry might be saying or doing that could be interpreted differently than what was obvious to the naked eye.

Barry’s eyes blinked open. Hazy with sleep, Barry’s voice was husky. It turned Iris on. There was no getting around that.

“I-Iris?”

She smiled slowly, shoving down the feeling.

“It’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” His brows furrowed, confused, not registering what she was implying.

He’s so darn cute.

“Telling me to get off my butt and sleep in my own bed and then proceeding to sleep on the couch yourself?”

He was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And not only that, but before you woke up just now, you were mumbling in your sleep.”

That seemed to wake him right up.

“What did I say?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, though her cheeks felt hot as coals.

“Oh, you know, just the usual…that you love me sooo much.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“And that you want me to kiss you.”

She met his eyes. Her mouth suddenly felt so dry. She couldn’t look away from him if she tried. His stare was so intense she thought she’d die if she looked away.

Was he gonna kiss her? _Was he gonna kiss her?_ She thought she’d die if he didn’t.

She didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to break this crystalline, fragile moment, but his name slipped past her lips anyway. Or, at least it started to.

“Bar-”

He leaned over the edge of the couch, most of his body still level enough that he didn’t fall off. And Iris was close enough that he didn’t have to lean far. He didn’t hesitate once he reached her, not for a single moment, and Iris wondered if he’d wanted to do this for a while. If he’d dreamt about it.

His lips were warm and soft against hers. The pressure was sweet and made her feel all tingly. It was the simplest of kisses, but she let him pull back, so he could say something if he wanted to, even though every part of her wanted to grab his face and devour him.

“I do love you, Iris,” he said softly. “I’ve loved you for…so long. And I haven’t told you because-”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “I understand.”

“What about…” he trailed off, then licked his lips. “What about you?”

Iris thought about it, wondered what she truly felt. She certainly loved him like family, though she’d never really thought of him as family, certainly not in a way that would make her see him as her brother or cousin or any other kind of relative. She’d never thought that. But she felt safe with him and protective of him. She enjoyed spending time with him, and she liked touching him a lot. And right now, there were few other things she wanted than to make out with him right here by the Christmas tree on Christmas morning.

“Iris?”

She smiled tentatively, then draped her arm around his neck.

“I think I love you, too, Bear.”

Her small, pretty smile was nothing compared to the thousand-watt one that spread across his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes bright with happiness. He was so very awake now.

“Yeah,” she giggled, then scooted closer and kissed him again and again and again.

By the time Joe came downstairs sometime later, Barry was sitting up on the couch and Iris was straddling him, kissing him with a fury that stole his breath. And Joe West groaned, causing them to break away.

“Dad!” Iris shrieked, but Barry said nothing, a lazy grin on his face he couldn’t suppress.

“Well, I guess you told her,” Joe said on a sigh.

Iris’ jaw dropped. “You knew?”

He ignored her. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Barry Allen-”

“You told me once,” Barry retorted, to which Joe shrugged and headed back towards the stairs.

“Wait, Dad! You don’t have to-” She tried to climb off Barry’s lap, but he sensed the movement and held her in place, making her brace her hands on the top of the couch, startled.

“I really think I do,” Joe said, continuing up the steps. “I’m still tired anyway.”

When they heard his bedroom door shut behind him, Iris turned back to Barry and playfully smacked him.

“I can’t believe you!” she giggled.

He only grinned. “You’re beautiful in the morning, you know that?” He tucked a lock behind her ear, then sunk his fingers into her hair.

Iris shivered beneath his touch. “Only in the morning, Barry Allen?”

“No,” he said and pulled her closer, nuzzling her nose before stealing a kiss. “All the time. Always. You’re always beautiful.”

One kiss after another. Iris sunk into each and every one of them.

“I have a Christmas present for you.” She tried to pull away.

“I like this one,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

“I’ll do you one better,” she said, leaning back enough so they’d tumble to the floor if he tried to lean forward.

“What’s that?” he asked, resigned to whatever fate she’d decided to deliver him.

The question sounded simple enough in her mind, and she knew he’d say yes. She was just suddenly very nervous to ask it. Would he tease her? Would she tell her she was being silly?

“Iris?” he asked, concerned, breaking through her self-doubt, and she knew she was being silly. Silly to doubt him ever.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Barry?”

His literal gasp followed by the look of awestruck wonder in his eyes, the unshed tears of a boy in love staring straight at her like she was the reason science made sense.

“You have to ask?” he rasped, and she knew right then she loved him.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

She kissed him hard – but just barely because she was smiling so much.

“I’m so excited, Barry. So happy. This is the best Christmas gift ever.”

Her eyes dazzled when she pulled away, and he was smiling so bright he looked like he might burst.

“Not as happy as I am, Iris,” then stole another kiss. “Not by a long shot.”

And they kissed a while longer as dawn crept into day and sun shone through the front window. And after a while Barry made pancakes and Iris stared dreamily at him as he did.

“My boyfriend, the cook,” she said, not realizing until he turned to look at her that she’d said it out loud. She was too embarrassed to take it back. And the smirk he sent her way melted her insides.

He finished up their breakfast and delivered it to her. Her eyes lit up at the display of deliciously smelling food, but before she could dive in, he tipped her chin up, leaned down and kissed her.

“Better than pancakes,” she murmured against his lips.

“Better than Christmas,” he countered.

She didn’t disagree.


End file.
